


The Things That Could Make Us Official

by galacticsugar



Series: Great British Bake Off AU [5]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt, calum's just having a bad week you know, extra salty falafel, gbbo au, in which i try to make bake off malum actual humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticsugar/pseuds/galacticsugar
Summary: Calum’s never really been one to ask for help. The idea of letting someone see him as anything less than competent, happy and confident terrifies him. He doesn’t know if it’s just the way he is or if there’s something that happened to him to make him this way, but he’s almost physically incapable of showing vulnerability.***for the tumblr prompt "it reminded me of you" with bake off malum.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Calum Hood
Series: Great British Bake Off AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132871
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	The Things That Could Make Us Official

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanluke/gifts).



> for the tumblr prompt "it reminded me of you" for bake off malum from [mandie](https://cakelftv.tumblr.com/%22). 
> 
> i wanted to challenge myself to write bake off malum a little softer; less chaotic. originally it was meant to be complete fluff but it ended up a bit angsty because someone was having a bad day. (it was me.)

Calum’s never really been one to ask for help. The idea of letting someone see him as anything less than competent, happy and confident terrifies him. He doesn’t know if it’s just the way he is or if there’s something that happened to him to make him this way, but he’s almost physically incapable of showing vulnerability. 

He has a reputation. _Unflappable_ , they say. Friendly, easygoing Calum who is never truly bothered by anything. Maybe some surface-level annoyance when someone cuts him off in traffic or is rude to him at the store, but nothing meaningful. He has to be stable and stoic. He can’t make waves, can’t be a challenge or a burden. Because then...no one will want him.

In the three months that Calum has known Michael, Michael has never seen him cry. Never seen him angry. The worst he’s seen is apathetic Calum, which barely even counts because even though Calum feels like he’s being horribly obvious when he’s in a bad mood, most people don’t even notice. To Michael, it’s just Calum being a little quieter than usual. Nothing to be concerned about, anyway.

It’s far too soon for Calum to even _think_ about showing Michael the side of himself that isn’t completely cool, calm and collected. He may never be ready to do it. Michael is just so bright. He’s laughter and silly adventures and fizzy drinks. Calum tries his best to keep up. He wants to be worthy of Michael’s attention, because the way Michael looks at him - full of adoration and lust - is probably enough to keep Calum alive. Who needs food and water and air when Michael’s looking at him like he’s the center of the universe? 

But Calum is only human. Sometimes he _needs_ help; needs to be reminded that people care about him. That occasionally, he’s at the top of someone’s list of favorite people. But how can he be, when no one knows he needs it, and he doesn’t know how to tell them? In his twisted mind, if they really care, they shouldn’t need to be told. He just hasn’t earned it, isn’t worthy of the attention, and he knows that.

So Calum bakes. It doesn’t fix things, but it gives him something else to focus his mind on besides feeling sorry for himself. He can’t be agonizing over how unworthy he is if he’s busy sifting sugar or browning butter. 

He’s been doing a lot of baking in the past week. Michael has been busy with work and friends and things that aren’t Calum, and it has given Calum too much time to question things. He just can’t stop thinking about how long it will be before Michael realizes he’s not contributing anything valuable to their relationship and breaks things off with him.

On Tuesday he makes a key lime pie. Thursday is hummingbird cake, without the nuts, because Michael doesn’t like them. Sunday he sticks with classic chocolate chip cookies, extra large and extra gooey. He regrets his choices because cookies are too easy. They don’t distract him enough, and he can’t fall asleep that night; his mind constantly working through one self-critical thought after another.

When Monday rolls around, he’s tired. Tired of being in his own head, and tired in general. He makes an apple pie, the same apple pie he’s made dozens of times before, but he keeps screwing things up in the haze of his fatigue. His crust ends up a messy, haphazard patchwork, and he’s not sure it even baked right since he used the wrong temperature for the first twenty minutes the pie was in the oven. He sets the hideous-looking pie on a trivet in the middle of his table and tries to forget about it.

***

He ends up dropping the pie at Michael’s flat on his way to a doctor’s appointment. It’s become a bit of a habit for him; leaving baked goods at Michael’s flat when Michael’s gone at work. He sets the pie on the welcome mat in front of Michael’s front door and sends him a text.

 **Calum:** Apple pie at your door for you. Not sure how it turned out. Proceed with caution.

He feels a little bad leaving Michael with what is potentially the worst pie he has ever made, but he needs to get it out of his house. He doesn’t need the reminder of how little he brings to the table. Literally.

***

The next afternoon, Calum has a lunch date with Michael at the falafel place across the street from the record store where Michael works. He’s still feeling a little off, but he’s finally starting to shake his extended bad mood. Seeing Michael will help. It always does.

Michael’s waiting for him when he steps into the restaurant, bells jingling over his head as the door shuts behind him. When Michael spots Calum, he jumps up from the table and tackles Calum in a hug.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever!” he says into Calum’s ear, warm breath a welcome contrast to the biting February cold outside.

Calum clings to Michael tightly for a few seconds longer than he normally would, trying to make up for the physical contact he missed out on while Michael was too busy to see him. “‘Cause you haven’t,” Calum replies lightly.

“Got you a number four,” Michael says. “Extra hummus.”

“Thanks, Mike.” Calum grins as he drops into his chair. It might be the first genuine smile he’s had on his face in over a week, all because Michael remembered his usual order.

Michael looks Calum over hungrily as he sits back down. “Like what you see?” Calum asks, raising his eyebrows as he digs into his falafel and rice bowl. 

“I always do.” Michael smirks and picks up his own fork. “Just making sure you hadn’t gotten fitter since I saw you last.”

“Did I?” Calum jams an entire falafel ball in his mouth and chews it as obnoxiously as he can. He missed this. He missed Michael.

Michael’s nose wrinkles as he tries not to laugh at Calum. “Unfortunately, you have.”

“Unfortunate for who?” Calum asks. “Certainly not me.”

“Me, mostly.” Michael looks truly pained. “I was already sexually frustrated after not seeing you for a week and now you show up looking even fitter, but I can’t do anything about it when the falafel is watching.” 

“I don’t think it’s the falafel you have to worry about,” Calum says, eyeing the crowded table next to them. 

Michael just shrugs. “Guess talking to you will have to do. Good thing you’re more than just a pretty face and a hot bod.”

“Am I?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as serious as it comes out. He laughs nervously to ease the sudden tension in the air.

“Sure you are.” Michael smiles at him, a sweet little pout that feels more personal than the suggestive smirk Calum is used to seeing. “And I’m not just saying that because you feed me pies.”

At the reminder of yesterday’s apple pie, Calum cringes. “How was it, dare I ask?”

“It reminded me of you,” Michael says. “A little messy on the outside but sweet and delicious once you push through to the middle.”

Michael is probably just teasing, trying to wind Calum up a bit and flirt with him at the same time. He probably doesn’t expect Calum to start crying in the middle of Mr. Falafel, but that’s exactly what happens.

He doesn’t even get an opportunity to try to stop the tears, they just start pouring silently out of his eyes and onto the plate in front of him.

“Shit, sorry Cal. Did I say something wrong?” Michael is genuinely freaked out, which is fair. This is exactly why Calum doesn’t want to cry in front of him.

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” Michael’s eyes are wide and watery green, and he’s blinking rapidly. Fuck, is Michael going to cry too? They’re never going to be able to come back to Mr. Falafel, which is a damn shame since it’s the only decent restaurant within six blocks of the record store.

“Don’t cry, Mike,” Calum says, chuckling at the audacity of saying such a thing through his own tears. “It’s fine.” He dabs at his face with a napkin, rough recycled paper scratching his cheek. “You just hit a nerve. In a good way,” he adds when he notices Michael’s face drop.

“I made you cry but it’s good?” Michael seems genuinely baffled now, and Calum is going to have to try to explain himself. This is what he’s been dreading, because he _can’t_. He can’t explain it in a way that makes sense to anyone, himself included, and he gets so frustrated with himself every time he tries and fails.

Calum takes a deep breath and a sip of water, wanting to make sure his voice is steady. “I had kind of a tough week.”

“Missing my dick too; I get it,” Michael says knowingly.

It startles a strangled laugh from Calum, and he’s incredibly thankful that Michael can find levity in the moment. It makes Calum feel like less of a burden for dumping this on him.

“Right,” he agrees. “And the rest of you too. Gave me too much time to get stuck in my own head.”

“And what were you thinking about?” Michael asks, abandoning his joking tone.

An errant sob escapes Calum’s throat. “How I’m-- I don’t know. Not good enough. I’m no one’s first choice. That sort of thing. And logically I know that’s not entirely true, but there was no one around to remind me.”

Calum keeps his eyes on his bowl, worried that if he looks up he’ll see Michael’s face frozen in fear or regret. This Calum is not functioning as advertised. Michael may want a refund.

“I know how that feels.” Michael’s voice is soft and sincere in a way that’s a little foreign to Calum. Michael laughs, a quick chuckle that he cuts off almost immediately. “It never occurred to me that someone like you could ever feel that way.”

“Someone like me?” Calum finally risks a glance at Michael, and he’s smiling softly, eyes a little sad but also filled with wonder, like he just had some kind of epiphany over his falafel bowl.

Michael flaps his hand at Calum, accidentally sending a spray of rice off the tines of his fork and onto the table between them. “You know. Pretty. Funny. Talented. Charismatic. People like you are supposed to be obnoxiously confident.”

“Well. I’m not. And I’m sorry about that.”

“Why are you sorry about that?” Michael asks in disbelief.

“Because this isn’t what you signed up for. You thought you were getting this chill, easy guy, but I’m actually a needy pain in the ass.”

Michael laughs, and Calum shakes his head, confused. 

“That’s an upgrade, Cal.” Michael smiles around a bite of falafel. “It’s nice to know there’s more to you than meets the eye. It will keep me on my toes.” 

It can’t be this easy. This isn’t how it works. Every other person Calum has dated, this is the part where he scares them away, yet Michael is saying the fact that he’s crying in the middle of Mr. Falafel is somehow _desirable_?

“Seriously?”

“I like a challenge.” Michael shrugs. “Wanna go to the movies tonight after I get off work?” 

The abrupt subject change gives Calum whiplash. “Um. If you want to?” He still can’t quite believe Michael is fine with everything that just happened and apparently still wants to go on dates with Calum.

“I do,” Michael confirms. “And afterwards, you can come back to mine and have a slice of pie. See how delicious you are.”

Michael is making it hard for Calum to stay fixated on something being wrong, because he’s acting just like he always does. Calum cried, and Michael talked to him about it without running away, and now Michael’s carrying on like nothing has changed between them at all; like Calum didn’t ruin anything. 

“Is that a euphemism?” Calum asks, allowing himself to get pulled into the new topic. 

“It is if you want it to be.” Michael eyes Calum as he licks tzatziki sauce from his finger.

Calum smirks. “I do.”

It’s almost too easy to fall back into their usual rhythms. By the time he’s done with his lunch, Calum has forgotten he ever shed tears at Mr. Falafel.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr [@staticsounds](https://staticsounds.tumblr.com); come say hi!


End file.
